


The Magician, The Fool, and The Hermit

by Elven Sentinel (trixsters)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Nonbinary Protagnist, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 08:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9114880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixsters/pseuds/Elven%20Sentinel
Summary: It could be worse. Alistair could be tasked with saving Ferelden by himself, or with only one other Warden. Still...three Fereldan Wardens total was, well, not a lot. And it's not any better that one of them is a hedonistic asshole, and the other is a mage who doesn't know how to approach danger with caution.At least he's not alone, right?{Trans man & Nonbinary Wardens}





	1. Mahariel (Part I)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! There's uh, well, a surprising lack of LGBT protagonists in Dragon Age fanfic and as an LGBT person myself, with the amount of character customization available in the games, it's a little upsetting. Therefore, I decided to publish this fic that I'm working on with my best friend just for fun! The Wardens in this are our OCs, our PCs I guess. (And trust me, it makes more sense than it sounds like!) Another quick note: none of the Wardens in this are white, including Alistair. My friend and I are also not white, so we liked the idea. :)

            As far as Alistair knew, elves were…well, to put it bluntly, pretty fucked up. Not that he was trying to make assumptions; all growing up he believed that they were probably just different from him, but not necessarily in a bad way. However, _meeting_ one was a very different story. Granted, he was the only elf Alistair had ever met, and he wasn’t exactly a shining example of what they were like. Still, Alistair tried to be friendly and make conversation. He was a fellow Grey Warden after all, and the one closest to his own age, since he was eighteen.

            “Hey, Ren.”

            Ren cracked one eye open to look over at Alistair in response.

            “Did you hear the new recruit’s supposed to be an elf, too?” he figured that might be a nice change for Ren, since most of the other Wardens were, well, human. It might be better for Alistair too, because then Ren could go be fucked up with another elf instead of making him uncomfortable.

            Ren closed his eyes again and replied simply, “So? He’s probably a city slicker. That’s gay.”

            “Oh, that’s right, you were Dalish…say, what was that like? You didn’t really talk to anyone when you first joined, and I was always curious.” Immediately after the sentence left his mouth, Alistair inwardly cringed. Why did he say that? Why did he invite this man to speak about himself? Now he was going to have to sit here and listen to this very concerning elf talk about how he probably ate babies and skinned puppies before becoming a Warden. As soon as he noticed Ren opening his mouth in response, he quickly blurted out, “You know, actually I just realized, ahem, uh, this might not exactly be, you know, the best time? Ah…we’re…kinda busy, aren’t we?”

            “I’m sleeping.”

            “Yeah, you’re right, so I should probably leave you alone, right? We can ah…catch up later—”

            “Man, you know…being with the Dalish sure was great…I was waiting for someone to ask…”

            _Damn_ , Alistair thought, _why did I have to say something?_ “Riiiight…” said he, in absolute dread. Taking delight in the pain he seemed to be causing, Ren opened his eyes and sat up to tell Alistair the story of how he became a Warden. It hadn’t been that long ago at all, but regardless, he hadn’t told anyone.

            “So, it all started when these fucking shems barged into _my_ forest, right?”

            Alistair’s frustrated groan only egged him on.

 

* * *

 

           

            “What do you say, lethallin? What should we do with them?” Tamlen asked, bow trained and ready. What he really wanted was to shoot all three of the men, but he at least wanted confirmation before doing so.

            “Hold on,” Ren replied, rummaging through the pockets of the captive humans. Tamlen rolled his eyes, and the man whose pockets were currently being violated gave an offended, “Hey!”

            “I’m sorry, which one of us has the dagger here?” Ren carefully stood up, holding a _very_ sharp dagger to the man’s neck, causing him to nervously tilt his chin away. When he got no response, he simply remarked, “That’s what I thought,” and continued to go through his things. Tamlen was annoyed by the shorter elf’s behavior, but he couldn’t say he was surprised. When he decided that he was finished and that he’d collected enough gold from them— _They only had 43 silvers total! What kind of penniless assholes are they? —_ he stood back up and held his daggers to the throats of the two that didn’t have Tamlen’s arrow trained on them.

            “So? What should we do, Ren?”

            “Uh….hm…let’s see what they’re doing here at least,” he suggested casually, as though he wasn’t holding two men seconds from death. Tamlen didn’t believe that the answer really mattered—they couldn’t be allowed to live. The men finally spoke up, saying that they heard about a cave, presumably with treasure, and though Tamlen didn’t believe them, Ren’s interest was already piqued.

            “Hey, you know…maybe we should go find this treasure…” Ren smirked.

            “You don’t actually _believe_ them? Come on, Ren, you can’t—”

            “It’s true! We found this by the entrance of the ruins!” One of the men held out a stone with what appeared to be written elvish carved into it, which Tamlen inspected in awe. He soon became hostile again, however. The men explained that they didn’t stay at the cave very long, for there was a demon there, and they ran—that was how they got here. Tamlen didn’t believe them, but asked for Ren’s opinion on whether they should kill them or not. Ren nonchalantly sheathed his daggers with an equally careless, “nah,” and walked over to join Tamlen.

            When the humans had gone, Tamlen then wondered if they should go investigate the cave in question.

            “What the fuck, yeah. What if there’s actually treasure there, falon?”

            “Will you shut up about treasure? They were probably just trying to trick you into not killing them. Have you ever heard of any ruins in this part of the forest?”

            “ _Falon_ ,” said Ren more forcefully, “There might be lost elven artifacts there. Aren’t you at least a _little_ curious?”

            “Fine, you make a good point. And if we find anything, the Keeper will want to know.”

            The two followed the directions of the humans, taking note of landmarks they came across along the way. When they reached what they assumed to be the cave, Tamlen remarked that he was unfamiliar with it, and wondered if Ren felt the same.

            “I don’t recognize it either. Let’s check it out.”

            “Are you sure?”

            “We’ll be fine.” Ren thought Tamlen’s hesitance to be rather uncharacteristic of him. Among the clan, Tamlen was not known for his…caution. He was young, having grown up alongside Ren, and his spirit matched this; he was frequently impetuous and forthright, in ways that had definitely landed him in trouble before, so his hesitance around this cave was unusual to say the least. Ren didn’t take it as a sign; he merely assumed something was wrong with Tamlen. Maybe he’d eaten something nasty and he wasn’t thinking properly, or maybe he’d not slept enough last night.          

Whatever the case, Ren had no fears about what was to come. If anything, he was excited at the chance to potentially uncover lost elven artifacts. He was proud of his elven heritage, and prouder still to be Dalish, to walk in the footsteps of his ancestors and uncover their legacy. Ever since he had earned his vallaslin—not too long ago in fact—he wore the markings pride, for they honored the goddess Mythal. He had little respect for city elves, whom he, along with many other Dalish, saw as somewhat beneath them. He thought it disgusting that they’d throw their lot in with the humans and let themselves be mistreated and held as second-class citizens. In his eyes, a city elf was only marginally better than a human.

Tamlen and Ren carefully picked their way through the cave, which, as reported was primarily in ruins. There were large, gaping holes in the walls, big enough for a person to climb out—or in—as well as considerably-sized spider webs clinging to the ceilings and sides of each chamber. As expected with this, there were also massive spiders to be found in the cave, which were dispatched with ease by the two.

Finally, they made it to an inner chamber which seemed interesting, only to be attacked by some sort of monstrous, diseased-looking bear with long, chitinous spines protruding from its discolored and rotting flesh. Although significantly harder to kill than everything else in the cave—including the _definitely_ haunted walking corpses from only a moment ago—they survived, nearly unscathed. They took a moment to regain their breath, as well as their composure, and searched their immediate vicinity to make sure that they were safe. They seemed to be alone now, so they proceeded carefully to the rather odd-looking mirror in the center of the chamber.

It was quite striking, dazzling even, and seemed to have a sort of unreal quality about it, like it didn’t belong here at all. Ren was at first intrigued by this, but a growing feeling in his stomach told him to be cautious. Although he was definitely a fan of anything shiny, dazzling, or beautiful, this was a strange kind of feeling he was unfamiliar with. Additionally, it was the only thing in the room that wasn’t broken, as Tamlen pointed out, which only served to heighten Ren’s hesitance.

Tamlen, however, seemed to be back to his usual self, because he sauntered right up to the mirror without a second thought. He seemed to be completely taken with it, intently gazing into it, taking in its every detail. Ren stayed a fair bit behind him, feeling oddly like something was watching him.

“Did you see that? I think something moved inside the mirror,” Tamlen whispered in awe.

 _Oh, Creators…we’re going to die,_ thought Ren, accepting his fate already.

“ _Falon…_ ” Ren trailed off. He was torn between wanting Tamlen to leave and knowing he wasn’t going to listen anyway. _This is great. This is nice_ , he thought sarcastically. Maybe he should just lie down and take a nap. Maybe if he just ignored everything it’d stop. He was screaming internally, but could’ve been mistaken for completely apathetic by the way he looked, the way he stood there, expressionless. _Whatever. I’m already dead inside._

But Tamlen only continued to inspect the mirror, inching closer to it until finally, he _actually put his hands on it_ , creating eerie ripples on its surface, reminiscent of those of a pond. At this point, Ren was freaking out, holding his head in his hands.

“Tamlen! What are you doing!” he yelled.

The next thing they knew, Tamlen seemed to be frozen in place, unable to move or look away from the mirror. He anxiously shouted for help, and before either of them could make a move, they were thrown to the ground.


	2. Mahariel (Part II)

            “That’s the last thing I remember happening before I woke up. I don’t remember anything after that,” said Ren. Alistair, who had been horrified for nearly the entire duration of this story, could only give a soft, “Wow…did he…did he survive? What made you join the Wardens, then?”

            He wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to know the answer, but they’d already come this far. Plus, it seemed rude to leave the story unfinished.

            “Uh…he…no. He didn’t survive. I still feel really guilty about it, you know? I was there with him and I didn’t really do anything to stop him, I just kind of let it happen. I was probably too passive. Maybe I’m heartless. Maybe something’s wrong with me, I don’t know. I just wish I’d done something instead of standing there. It’s probably my fault.”

            This was the first time that Alistair had seen a side of Ren where he didn’t seem completely careless and hedonistic, and he felt both shocked and sympathetic towards him. He couldn’t relate, no, since he hadn’t yet experienced that sort of loss, but he felt more able to connect with the elf all the same. For the first time, he was able to see Ren as a normal person, as the young man he was, instead of as an unrestrained enigma of an elf. Earnestly, he gave his condolences, and Ren continued to explain what it was that made him join the Wardens.

            “The Wardens are the only reason I survived. It’s ironic because Tamlen was always more daring and risk-taking than me. He was more dedicated and determined to do what he set out for, and no one could change his mind. He definitely would’ve survived the Joining. He probably would have been a better Warden than me, too.”

            Alistair started to respond, but before he could say anything, Ren perked up, seeming to have realized that he’d gotten too personal for his own liking, and laughed awkwardly. “You wanted to know why I joined the Wardens though, right?”

            Alistair was put off by his sudden and, well, unnatural change in tone, but sensing that he didn’t really want to acknowledge it, he simply nodded and waited to hear the rest.

* * *

 

            Fenarel was the first person to speak to Ren.

            “Feynaren! You’re back at camp. Everyone is worried sick about you. How do you feel?” he asked with genuine concern. Ren felt groggy and his mind was fuzzy at best, which he decided was the best answer. Fenarel explained that a human Grey Warden had brought him back—which was news to Ren, as he didn’t remember anything—that two days had passed since the incident, and that initially, he was expected to die; the Keeper had kept him alive through her magic. Ren began to feel a volatile mixture of emotions: confusion, shock, panic, and regret. When the initial shock wore off, he started to worry about Tamlen, whom he promptly asked about.

            Fenarel told him that the hunters were still out searching for Tamlen, and that the Keeper wished to speak with him, so he did. The Keeper had questions for him, none of which he could answer, and he was then asked to show them the way, so that they could find and possibly save Tamlen. He was to take Merrill—why, he didn’t ask—and go on his way.

            Upon returning to the _definitely_ haunted ruins, the two actually met the Grey Warden, to whom Ren was initially hostile _. Grey Warden or not, a shemlen? How disgusting_ , Ren thought. Quickly, however, he remembered that this _human_ saved his life, and begrudgingly thanked him, deciding he at least deserved respect for _that_. Soon after, it was revealed to Ren and Merrill that the mirror that had caused this was…broken: “tainted”, as he put it. Ren could feel a knot form in his stomach at this, and he wasn’t sure whether or not to keep hoping for Tamlen’s survival. More alarmingly though, he wished to know what that meant for _himself._

            “Huh? What do you mean? How long do I have left? What should I do?” The questions shot from his mouth in rapid-fire succession, leaving Duncan scarcely any time to answer. Bitterly, Ren added, in his mind, _this is bullshit. I’m too young and beautiful to die._ Duncan seemed to ignore this concern briefly, more concerned with destroying the mirror and leaving, but when told that they’d discuss the cure back at camp, Ren relaxed a little bit. A little.

            “Why not just tell me about the cure? What about Tamlen? What if he’s—”

            “There is _nothing_ you can do for your friend. Trust me when I say that he is gone.”

            “What about the cure? Why can’t you just tell me what it is?”

            “It’s not that simple. I would tell you more, but first I must speak with your Keeper.”

            Ren opened his mouth to ask an even longer string of questions, but Duncan seemed as though he was ready to cut him off with a level-headed response at any point, and so he shut it again and quietly glowered at the man, mumbling a hostile, “Fine,” under his breath.

            When they returned to camp, Duncan went to speak to the Keeper about what had transpired, and about Ren’s cure, which they still wouldn’t tell him about. Ren was completely exasperated by this, but he had a particularly impassive disposition; for better or worse, although he was easily annoyed, one could seldom tell. In the meantime, he spoke to the elder about a service for Tamlen, still somewhat in denial over what had happened. The Hahren had him help tell the story of the fall of the Dales to the children, and with the things running through Ren’s mind, that at least gave him some solace. He took Dalish heritage very seriously, and it was one of the few things he did so; reciting the tale brought him peace, if only for a moment.

            “So then later Duncan told me that the Wardens needed recruits and I was like ‘nice’ so then I left and now here I am.” Ren shrugged and put his head back down as if to sleep, abruptly ending his tale with no conclusion.

* * *

            “W-wait that’s it? You’re not going to finish? You can’t just stop right there!” argued Alistair, completely thrown off by the sudden ending. He was answered by a loud and obviously fake snore, with no movement from Ren.

            “You’re really not going to tell me?”

            Ren opened one eye slightly to look at his friend and smirked, closing it again and adjusting as if to get comfortable.

            “Alright. Fine, I guess.”

            Alistair looked as though he was about to say something else, but stopped when Ren sat up and pointed past him, whispering, “Hey, is that him? That’s the new recruit, right? Creators, he looks so gay.” The comment was soon followed by a childish snicker, characteristic of the Ren that Alistair was actually familiar with. Seeing that Ren seemed to be back to normal and that he was no longer going to divulge any of his past, Alistair merely stood up and said, “Right, well…there’s probably something I should be doing right now, so…I’m going to go do that.”

            “I’m serious, falon, look at him! That’s the gayest hairstyle I’ve ever seen.”

            The new elf’s hairstyle was indeed feminine—a curly, well-kept ponytail reaching his mid-back with long tendrils obviously meant to frame either side of his face—but Alistair thought it rude to pass that kind of judgement on a man he didn’t know.

            “And I’m guessing you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

            _That_ caused Ren to burst out in laughter. “I know a fellow gay when I see one, falon.”

            That was news to Alistair, though he wasn’t sure why, because it wasn’t as if Ren had ever attempted to hide it. As he could not relate to the sentiment and didn’t want to be accidentally rude (as he was prone to do), he simply nodded awkwardly and left before Ren could say something _else_ weird.

            With the arrival of the new recruit, Alistair hoped for only one thing: maybe _this_ elf would be easier to understand.

             

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long for an update! I've been working on a painting for school and it's been eating up all of my time since December, but I was finally able to get around to finishing this chapter. On the bright side, the next 2 chapters are already written, so those won't take long to post.

**Author's Note:**

> So! The first four chapters will just be origin stories. I wanted to solidly establish the personalities of the main characters before doing anything, and I figured that it's a good way to show that sort of characterization. If you like, you can skip them when I've gotten past them! It's just a little background if anyone's interested. :)


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